The Final Battle
by OliviaKatetheGreat
Summary: The story of what ended up being the worst day of George's life. Told from his point of view. R&R


**Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn't be writing this in the first place because this whole scene wouldn't have happened and Fred would be alive.**

George was running. At any other time, this would have seemed like he and Fred had just pranked the wrong person. Many a time the portraits had seen them sprint down the halls. This, however, was not one of those happy occasions. He ducked under a jet of green light, hitting the ground hard. Another scrape was added to the ones already on his face. This was war.

People were shouting around him, screaming curses, calling for loved ones. As he got up shakily, he scanned the crowd for a redhead. He couldn't see a single sign of a member of his family. He could make out a few people he knew, though. Over there, Lupin dueled a masked man, and Flitwick seemed to be charming rocks towards Death Eaters. Lee Jordan led the group he had just been with across the grounds. It had only been a few minutes since the Death Eaters had penetrated the school and already, chaos reigned.

Seamus Finnegan was running like George had been a few seconds ago. He clutched his wand as he sprinted across the grounds. A Death Eater saw him, Seamus realized a second too late. George was about to mutter a curse, but a jinx flew through the air and hit the masked man. He saw a glint of long, red hair from the window where the hex came from. Ginny. Wasn't she supposed to be in the Room of Requirement? George grinned, though he was a little worried about her. She was sixteen, though. She could take care of herself.

He was preparing to rejoin the battle when the ground shook. There was the sound of an enormous explosion far away, and George was nearly knocked down. The battle seemed to pause for a moment, but began again with a new fervor. Something was wrong. Why did George feel so… empty? So _alone_? Why now, in this nearly empty corridor?

_ No_. No. George sinks to his knees. _It's not possible. He's fine. Everyone's fine. In a few hours, this will be over and I can find Fred._ Even as he said them, he knew that these were empty words. Fred. _No._ He can't form complete sentences. His mind can't -won't—come to the conclusion that he knows is true. He can't breathe, can't feel. The world is numb. The sounds of the battle fade away. All George can hear is the laugh of his brother, his twin. All George can see is his face.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, but he doesn't notice the people running past him. They pay no attention to him. He might as well be dead. He barely notices the and on his shoulder until someone is saying something.

"All right, George?" Bill is looking at him, his face full of worry. George just looks at him. He can't tell Bill what he knows. He can't say it. "Are you okay?" Bill sounds more frantic, very worried now. George takes a breath; he has to say something.

"Fred," he manages to choke this out. He is shivering, which Bill notices. "Fred."

"Fred? You don't… Have… Oh… No. You don't think…" Bill doesn't seem to be able to speak, either. He takes a deep breath. "Come on, now. We'll get you out of this rubble and to somewhere safer." George doesn't want safer. He wants to die, too. He doesn't want to be sitting among the rubble he didn't notice was created. He doesn't want to be alive.

"Fleur, come here." Bill calls to a silvery haired woman. She comes, running down the corridor.

"Are you okay? Eet ees not... 'E ees okay?" She begins to help George up. Bill and she both take an arm and guide him down the hall. They are interrupted by a cold cruel voice. Bill and Fleur pause to listen, but George tunes out. He doesn't need to hear this. He doesn't hear until he hears something that makes his blood run cold.

"Dispose of your dead with dignity…" Dispose of your _dead_. Fred is dead, George thinks. My brother is dead. We will have to dispose of him. _What am I_ _thinking_? He shakes his head. The grief comes back. He can hardly stand, and Bill and Fleur are the only things keeping him on his feet. He is vaguely aware of being moved, vaguely aware of entering the hall, vaguely aware of Fleur gasping, Bill crying out. It is the cry of his mother, though that brings him to his senses.

"George! Oh Georgie… Oh…" she is sobbing. George looks at her. She is kneeling next to a body, tears pouring down her cheeks. His dad is next to her, Percy on the other side. It's the person in the middle, though, that captures his attention. He is smiling slightly; his forehead is bloody. He is looking into his own face. Fred. Oh, Fred. No. The small, nearly nonexistent hope that he was alive disappears. He again collapses to his knees, nearly landing on Lupin and Tonks. Now, though, he pays no attention to them. He crawls to Fred, expecting to cry, to scream, to sob, but no tears come. His mother moves to cover Fred's body, shaking with sobs and covering Fred with tears.

Ginny, Hermione and Ron come to join them. As Ron sinks to his knees, George looks up. Harry is staring at all of them, looking oh so guilty. Like he personally killed Fred, Lupin and Tonks. George looks at Fred, and then looks back at Harry. Harry is gone.

The Weasleys spend most of the next hour with Fred. Ron and Hermione only get up to go help some of the wounded. George notices that they are holding hands. If Fred were here, they would tease them mercilessly. But he's not. So their clasped hands go unnoticed. He only removes himself from Fred's side, though, when he again hears the voice. Cold and cruel, it gives news that no one; absolutely no one wanted to hear. Harry is dead. Ginny's face pales. George can't believe the git. Going off and getting killed, now. Fred died for nothing, then. If Harry is dead, so is their cause. He looks at his dead brother, and heads outside with everyone else.

Once outside, the first things her hears are the cries of NO! Much like his earlier. Harry lies in Hagrid's arms. George only stares. No. Now Fred, and Harry. Oh, no. George watches, silent. Even though the other fighters scream, he just stands there. No. He really is in denial today.

When Neville, in the front, catches fire and pulls out the sword, he turns to tell Fred, to share his awe. Where his twin should be, there is an empty space. While the people around him cheer, he sinks to his knees. He should move so he isn't in the stampede of people trying to get to the Great Hall. He doesn't care. Strong and callused arms grab him, though. He looks into the face of Charlie. Charlie seems to know what has happened. He doesn't ask questions, just waits with George until the crowd subsides. Then, he pulls George into the castle. Inside, there is so much chaos, that it's surprising that anyone is standing. Flitwick is dueling the man who killed Lupin, Dolohov. Over in the corner, Voldemort is dueling Kingsley, Slughorn and McGonagall. George takes in the rest of the people fighting. Most of Hogsmeade is there. He sees Lee and Seamus dueling too. As he turns towards Charlie, who is staring at an empty spot that seems to be moving a while away, he hears a woman give a very loud shriek.

"Mum." Charlie's face pales as he looks at the frantic woman fighting none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. "Oh, Merlin." The words that they are saying aren't clear; there is too much noise. His mother looks furious; Bellatrix looks taunting. They talk as they fend off curses. The evil woman laughs, and Molly sends a final curse. Bellatrix topples over.

"Oh, no. Mum…" Charlie whispers. But Voldemort has turned towards her, and there is nothing they can do, and then something is yelled, but it's not the curse they'd been expecting. It's a shield charm, and Harry is alive. George would smile, but his face muscles feel broken. And Harry is saying impossible things, and Voldemort looks scared. For the first time in history, You-Know-Who was scared. And as the first light of dawn dazzled the ceiling, Voldemort fell. George alone of the Weasleys didn't go and hug Harry. For he had turned to hug Fred, to celebrate the war's ending and Fred wasn't there.

He stared at the empty spot, praying that this was just a nightmare. Even though the war was over, he would wake up tomorrow at Auntie Muriel's with Fred in the bed across from him. He hoped that Fred would get up and say that it was all a joke, all a big prank. He hoped that when they took the Aging Potion wasn't the only time he would see Fred as an old man. But it wasn't. A tiny part of his brain knew that. Fred was gone.

Later, he sat alone at the Gryffindor table for the first time in his life. There had always been a person in the empty spot beside him. He buried his head in his arms. He didn't cry. He felt numb, oh so numb. It was the dawn of a new age, one without Voldemort. It was also the dawn of an age without Fred.

**So. The ending was crap, but I suck at endings. Don't forget to R&R, my chums. **


End file.
